Jane flushed. “It is good to see you, Charles.”
Charles’s grin somehow stretched wider. “I’m throwing a Halloween party at Netherfield this Saturday, and I wanted to invite you to attend. You’re all invited.” He looked at Ms. Bates and her mother, including them in his offer.
I knew what was coming next. I gripped my coat like it might protect me from the onslaught that would inevitably come. But I had a single chance at escape. Concentrating, I accessed the little spark of fae light within me.
Carefully fanning the spark, it grew into a candle. I fed it my desire. I fed it as quickly as I could.Fade, fade, fade.
Mom’s gaze whipped to me as if she understood what I was trying to do. “How kind of you!” she said to Bingley.
I held my fae power close. Being half-fae meant each Bennet sister had a magical ability, however weak. With the candle lit, Charles’s attention should never land on me. That’s how it always worked. I became practically invisible—not really invisible—but my power willed those around me to overlook my existence for a short time.
But it didn’t work for someone who stared at me while I activated my power. Mom’s gaze bored into mine, even though she still talked to Charles. “Of course we will come. We wouldn’t miss it. We’llallbe there, right Mary?”
I lost my hold on my ability and let it go as my fingers curled into my black skirt. I ducked my head as Charles’s attention landed on me. “Yes, we’d be happy to attend.”
“Excellent!” Charles clapped his hands together. “Wonderful. It will be a splendid evening.” He gave Jane a last longing glance before turning. “Oh look, it’s Frank Churchill. I should invite him as well.”
I sucked in a breath, and I raised my gaze to follow his. If Frank Churchill came, perhaps the event wouldn’t be so bad after all.
Charles turned back to Jane. “I’ll text you the rest of the details. See you then.”
She gave him a soft smile. “Bye.”
“Yes, it was great seeing you, Mr. Bingley. We so look forward to attending your party,” Mom said with enough volume to ensure that anyone remaining in the chapel heard.
Charles’s grin flickered before he stepped away. Pastor Collins, having shifted from a condemning sermon to all smiles and compliments, immediately intercepted Charles. I glanced over at Frank, who still sat unmoving in his seat.
Pain etched the features of his handsome face. Watching him, I couldn’t help but recall the time as children that I’d stumbled upon him in the woods while he searched for his pet cat. It had taken almost until the sun had set before we’d found it hiding up in a tree. Frank had climbed the large spruce and gotten it down.
Later, he’d walked me home. He’d been so kind and attentive and funny that I’d been smitten ever since. But that had been that. Afterwards, we’d both resumed our own lives. He’d dated so many different women after highschool that he probably didn’t even remember me or that day as children from so long ago, though I’d never forgotten.
I stared at him, wishing I knew what caused him such anguish. Was it the death of the fae woman? Did he know her personally, or was Frank struggling with his own demons? I had the urge to walk over and smooth that furrow between his brows, but then shook myself. What was I thinking? If I walked up to Frank Churchill and tried that, he’d most likely press assault charges.
“Should we get going?” Lizzy stood.
I tore my gaze away from Frank as we joined her in making our way toward the exit. A bulletin board containing fliers and other town announcements hung near the entrance. Front and center—put up by Mom the moment she got her hands on it—was the announcement for the Austen Heights 37th Annual Autumn Bake-Off. Mom touched it with a small smile as she walked out. This year, she’d finally been selected as one of the judges.
As soon as we were out the doors, my sisters dispersed. Kitty ran off with friends. Jane and Lizzy headed for separate cars. The one Lizzy approached had a man standingoutside it. He was tall with olive skin, a playful spark in his eyes and stylish chin-length hair. George Wickham, though everyone in town just called him Wickham. Darcy stood outside the church in his pressed suit and tie as if waiting. Upon noticing Lizzy, he started to follow her, then stopped when he observed the man near the automobile. Darcy stiffened, his hands clenching before he turned and stalked off.
The townspeople, gathered in tight clusters, went wild with whispers.
“Did you see that? Such bad blood between the two. Which is unfortunate, I understand they grew up together. Darcy’s father raised George Wickham,” Mrs. Soo-jin Pembroke, the town mayor, murmured to Mrs. Priscilla Long.
“Yes, but did you hear what Darcy did?” Mrs. Long replied. “Apparently George was Darcy’s father’s favorite. And after he died, Darcy kicked George out of the family and denied him access to the inheritance meant for poor George.”
Mrs. Pembroke put a hand to her heart. “That is so horrible! I should go tell Ms. Bates. Oh, Ms. Bates, have you heard the news?”
As I moved down the steps, others spoke about Isabella Ravenswood. “That poor woman. She’d only been living here a year after returning from college.” Lucy Steele leaned close to her sister, Anne Steele. “Her parents must be so devastated.”
Anne trembled. “I can’t believe Austen Heights isn’t safe.”
Lucy shook her head. “Well, I hope they catch the culprit. I’m shocked that such a thing happened in our little town again.”
Mom faced me, for once focused on something besides gossip. “Now Mary, what are we going to do with you? You can’t keep avoiding social engagements.”
Oh no. Somehow, my sisters had disappeared and now only we two remained. I usually took care to avoid such circumstances. I needed an out, and fast.
Stepping back, I edged away from her. “I have some research to do. In the cemetery.”
